


People Will Talk

by Tea_For_One_Please



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Bisexual Peter Parker, Boys Being Boys, Boys In Love, Established Relationship, Fluff, Harley Keener as Iron Lad, If "Being Boys" means going out and beating up criminals as a date, M/M, Mild Angst, Peter is in college, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Two Boys Being Idiots, Who knows what Harley's doing, they're like 20
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21670717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tea_For_One_Please/pseuds/Tea_For_One_Please
Summary: Peter's seriously stressed out, so Harley takes him out for an unconventional date - saving lives and beating the living daylights out of criminals. Just normal couple stuff, you know?
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 122





	People Will Talk

Peter runs his eyes over the essay he’s just finished, hoping beyond hope that this will be the final proofread. He’s been at it for the last eight hours, which is impressive for someone who normally has the attention span of a Labrador puppy on Prozac. That said, he’s running on coffee, M&Ms and enough restless energy to power the Eastern Seaboard, as Mr Stark would say. He reaches the third paragraph without problems, but quickly realises that the fourth paragraph is essentially identical to the previous one. Annoyed, he highlights the paragraph and hits delete, and lets out a desperate whimper as he sees the word counter drop significantly – he’s now nearly five hundred words short.

He flops his head onto his desk in immense frustration. He’s technically got tomorrow to finish it, but he really wanted to finish it tonight. He’s in the process of wondering whether _Spider-Man Found Drowned In Hudson_ is too dramatic a title for tomorrow’s newspapers when his phone buzzes a few inches from his ear. He gives a weak smile when he sees Harley’s name on the notification and flicks the screen to look at the message, but his eyes widen as he reads it. _Open your window!_

He jumps to his feet and yanks up the blind covering the darkened window. Outside, he can see Harley’s unofficially-named IronLad suit, illuminated by the glow from Peter’s dorm room and the repulsors suspending his boyfriend in mid-air. He turns the handle and the window swings open, and Harley hovers through, dropping gently onto the rug. He taps the reactor in the centre of the chest piece and the nanotech suit shimmers away into nothingness, revealing a smirking Harley, who pulls Peter into his arms.

“What the hell are you doing?” Peter gasps, running his hands through Harley’s soft curls. He grasps his shoulders and looks into his grinning face, before pressing his lips urgently against Harley’s.

“Visiting my boyfriend in his time of trial, of course,” Harley says smoothly when Peter pulls away. “Is that so wrong?”

“Harley, we’ve talked about this,” Peter says, twisting his hands together anxiously as he starts to pace. “People are already speculating that Spider-Man and the so-called IronLad are dating.” His breaths are getting shorter, and Harley steps closer, concerned. “If people see you outside my dorm window they’ll realise who I am!”

“Pete, I’m sorry,” he says gently. “I didn’t mean to freak you out. That’s actually why I came, I knew you were working on your essay and hadn’t heard from you in hours.” He takes Peter’s hand and sits down with him on the bed. “I knew you must be balls-deep in your work, and I just wanted to surprise you, and, I don’t know, cheer you up.”

“I know,” Peter mumbles, staring down at their interlocked fingers. “I’m sorry too, I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“No, it’s okay.” Harley smiles and squeezes his hand. “You reacted naturally, I’m the ass here.” Peter smiles and rests his head on his shoulder. “Now, according to Karen’s logs, you haven’t left this room since lunchtime, so we’re going out.”

“How did you access Karen’s data?”

“Brilliantly,” Harley says, pulling Peter to his feet. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” he asks doubtfully.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Harley shrugs cheerfully. “Stop some criminals, save some civilians. Friendly-neighbourhood-superhero stuff. Consider it date night.” Peter chuckles.

“Manhattan is hardly a neighbourhood.”

“Never stopped you before,” Harley says. “Where’s your suit?”

Five minutes later, Harley finds himself (not for the first time) checking out his boyfriend’s ass in the rather flattering red-and-black suit he made for himself a few years ago. “Ready?”

“Hell, yeah,” Peter says, checking the diagnostics on his webshooters and checking his communicator chip. “I like the new suit, by the way.” It really is quite striking, painted black with polished bronze plating, with adjustable yellow lights which glow between the panels.

“Thanks,” Harley says proudly. “I made it last week. Tony provided the nanoparts but I designed and programmed it, and put it together.”

“Have you tested it yet?”

“Only in flying over here; not the weapons. Yet,” he adds with a wicked smirk.

“Well, hopefully there won’t be a need for that. Ready?” They’ve turned off the lights so no one outside will see two superheroes climbing out of the window, but he can still see Harley give a resolute nod as the suit encases his head. “Here goes nothing, then.” He takes a few steps back and leaps out of the window; Harley watches him plummet a dozen feet or so, then sees him swing out, landing gracefully on the roof of the building opposite. Harley copies, allowing himself to fall a little way before activating the repulsors and flying up to Peter.

“Where first?”

“Hold on,” Peter says, his eye lenses narrowed in concentration. “I’m hacking the police’s crime scanners.”

“Do they know you do that?”

“No idea, and I don’t really care. There,” he says, tapping his wrist controls once more. “I now have full access.”

“Sweet,” Harley says, impressed. “What have we got?”

“Mugging, three blocks away.” He leaps off the roof and starts swinging, as Harley powers up his thrusters in pursuit. Once there, Peter stops on a roof overlooking the alley to assess the situation. “Okay, I make it six attackers of average size, three of which have a crowbar or something.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Harley nods. “Let’s do it.” Peter drops silently down and lands a short distance away.

“You know,” he says loudly, “you guys have got to stop gathering in dark alleyways, or people will think you’re up to something.” They turn to face him, and one pulls out a small pistol.

“Shit, it’s Spider-Man,” one of them mutters. “Scatter!”

“Oh, wait, are you guys _actually_ up to something? What are the odds, huh?” With an almost lazy flick of his hand, he webs the handgun and yanks it from the thug, snapping it in two. He tosses the pieces aside and flicks out his other hand, shooting two webs in the vague direction of the fleeing muggers, then solidly punches the one guy who was approaching him threateningly.

“He missed!” one man yells triumphantly.

“Did I, though?” Peter calls back as he kicks another thug to the ground and webs him down. Far too late, the two who were running away notice a couple of beams of light in their path, and suddenly they’re being pulled hard towards the alley wall and are held firm by a series of strong webs. “Trip wire, boys!” The final two are running towards the other end of the alley, and it looks to Harley as if Peter hasn’t noticed.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he mutters. “Activate shockwave.” He jumps off the rooftop and slams down hard on the ground, unleashing a massive blast of concussive energy, sending the escaping thugs flying backwards. Peter’s helping up the young man who was being mugged, so Harley simply points his wrist rockets at the two on the ground as one of them tries to stand. “Listen,” he snarls. “I’ve been dying to road-test my weapon systems, so please, try and run.” Unsurprisingly, they don’t, and Peter comes over a few moments later and webs them securely to the asphalt.

“Nice job,” he says. “Police will be here in a few minutes. Enjoy the court case, guys. Looks pretty open-and-shut to me.” He extends a hand upwards and shoots a web up to the roof, disappearing from the criminals’ view, with Harley close behind him.

“That was fun,” Harley says , only slightly out of breath, as they perch on a rooftop a few blocks away.

“Probably not for the guy getting mugged.”

“Well, true.” Harley deactivates his helmet and looks to Peter. “What’s next?”

“Not sure,” says Peter, frowning at something in his heads-up display.

“I know that face,” says Harley, concerned. “Well, that look on your mask. What’s wrong?”

“There’s a building on fire in the East Village.” Peter’s voice is hesitant. “The emergency services have it under control.”

“But?”

“But they can’t get in to look for residents.”

“Well, then let’s go!” Harley’s perplexed about Peter’s reluctance. “What if there are people inside?”

“Yeah,” Peter says, still sounding reluctant. “Yeah. Let’s go.” Harley still isn’t sure what’s holding Peter back, but he shakes away the thought and launches into the air.

Peter smells the smoke and hears the commotion before Harley does, his senses growing stronger as they approach. His instincts are screaming at him that this is a bad idea, but he’s not sure why, and as Harley said, there could be people who need their help. He sticks to the fire escape on the adjacent building and calls Harley, who’s hovering nearby. “Wait, I need to scan the building.”

“There’s no time!”

“Yes, there’s time!” Peter says, his voice growing louder as he becomes exasperated. “It’ll take longer to just go in with no idea what we’re looking for!” Harley doesn’t answer, and Peter sets his eye lenses to look for life signs inside the building. “There. Tenth, eleventh and sixteenth floors.”

“Okay,” says Harley. “Divide and conquer. I’ll take the tenth and eleventh, you take the sixteenth.”

“Good. Let me know when you’re done.”

“Stay safe,” Harley says. Peter nods.

“You too.” Peter springs off the fire escape and swings toward the building, closing his eyes as he smashes through a window on the sixteenth floor. The heat is unimaginably intense – cinders fall against his skin, burning small holes in his suit and stinging his skin. “Hello?” he shouts. “Talk to me!”

“We’re over here!” a woman’s voice calls back. “Help us!”

“Keep talking, I’m coming!” He expertly navigates through the debris, trying to ignore the flames rising ominously around him.

“The door’s stuck!” the woman yells.

“Hang on!” He reaches the door and gives it an experimental shove with his shoulder. It barely moves. “Stand back,” he orders, before lifting a leg and kicking it with full force. It flies off its hinges and crashes against a closet against the opposite wall, shaking the room. A young woman clutching her terrified son are crouched in the corner of the room. “Don’t worry, ma’am, I’m gonna get you out of here.” A few pieces of burning plaster fall to the floor and the boy lets out a small scream. “Okay, come on,” Peter says, holding out a hand. “Let’s get you out of here.” The woman nods and follows him out of the room, holding her son by the hand, but they’re only halfway to the window when the whole building shakes violently. The boy screams again and starts to cry. “What the..?” Peter shakes his head. Doesn’t matter. “Don’t worry,” he says, beckoning them to keep moving, but the boy’s frozen in fear, and is refusing to move. Peter’s starting to panic, but he keeps breathing and crouches down in front of the boy. “Hey, buddy,” he says gently. “What’s your name?”

“Lucas,” is the frightened reply.

“Well, Lucas, we have to go outside now. Is that okay?” Lucas buries his face in his mother’s dressing gown. “Hey, Lucas?” Peter says, trying a new approach. “If you’re really good and come with me now, I can show you what it’s like to swing like Spider-Man. How’s that sound?” The building shakes again, but the little boy turns his face towards Peter and nods. “Awesome,” Peter says, practically trembling with relief. “Let’s go, then, yeah?” Lucas nods again, so Peter leads them to the window and climbs out onto the fire escape. The woman lifts her son up and passes him through the window to Peter, who holds him on his hip whilst Lucas clings to him like a koala to a tree. She then climbs out herself.

“Take him,” she says. “Come back for me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, you can’t swing with both of us. I’ll start climbing down. Go!”

“Ready, Lucas?” He doesn’t reply, so Peter simply jumps off the fire escape and starts swinging, and as he glances down, he sees Lucas open his eyes and peek out at what’s happening, hiding his face again as Peter lands near one of the ambulances.

“Spider-Man?” an EMT says curiously.

“This boy was in the building,” Peter explains. “Lucas, you gotta let go now, okay?” Reluctantly, he allows Peter to pass him to the EMT. Peter high-fives him and turns away. “I’ve got to go back for his mother,” Peter calls back, launching into the air and quickly spotting Lucas’ mother, about two floors lower than where they exited. Still no sign of Harley, Peter notices, before banishing the thought from his mind. He drops onto the fire escape next to her, asks, “Ready?”, then lowers them both to the ground. She runs to her son and hugs him, before turning Peter.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” she says sincerely.

“Don’t mention it,” Peter shrugs. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to check the other floors.” He’s about to spring back into the air when he senses danger. Running to the front of the crowd, near the building’s entrance, he shouts at the top of his voice. “ _Everyone step back, NOW!_ ” The alarmed crowd obeys immediately, and starts shuffling back, as with a loud _crash_ , Harley busts through the building’s exterior wall, clutching half a dozen unconscious people. The suit is strong, but it’s clearly a strain on the repulsors as he gently drops to the ground. EMTs surround him in seconds, with stretchers and oxygen masks for the residents.

The humming in Peter’s head suddenly intensifies, and seconds later, with a sickening rumble, the building collapses, killing a lot of the fire and leaving the street filled with smoke and brick dust. All thoughts of public opinion gone, Peter runs to Harley and throws his arms around him, and even though he knows from previous experience that a titanium suit is not much fun to hug, he doesn’t much care. “Thank god,” he murmurs. He then steps back and punches Harley on the arm. “What the hell did you do?”

“It was an accident,” says Harley, guilt evidence in his voice. “I figured I was running out of time, so I went through the floor to reach the residents faster.” Peter can hardly believe his ears.

“You fucking idiot,” he hisses. “How is the smartest 20-year-old since Tony Stark simultaneously the most _stupid_ person on the planet?”

“Yikes, okay,” Harley grumbles.

“You punched through a burning building?” Peter continues in disbelief. “Knowing full well that buildings are more structurally unsound when they’re burning?”

“Of course I know that,” Harley interjects as they take off, back towards the ESU dorms. “But I was under stress, you know? And it all turned out okay.” Peter sighs.

“I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Me too. Your suit’s looking a little worse for wear, by the way.”

“Yeah, I know,” Peter says, glancing down at the burn holes as he releases from a swing. “I’ll take it to the compound at the weekend and fix it up. You’re staying over tonight, right?”

“Obviously.”

Peter realises something’s up as they approach his window. They definitely left all the lights off, but Peter’s little television is very clearly on – he can see its distinct blueish glow from the ground.

“Burglars?” Harley suggests.

“What kind of burglar breaks into a student dorm and watches TV?” Peter whispers.

“Well, what’s your theory?” Harley shoots back, and Peter shrugs. He climbs slickly up the wall and slips through the window. The news is on, reporting the fire that just happened, and someone’s sat in his desk chair, facing away from him. As Harley climbs in, the desk lamp switches on, the chair spins around, and Tony Stark raises an eyebrow at the two of them, and sniffs once.

“M-Mr Stark!” says Peter, pulling off his mask and trying hard to keep his face in an expression of cheerful obliviousness. “What are you doing here?”

“Like you don’t know,” Tony says, standing and plunging his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah, okay,” Harley interjects, deactivating his helmet. “We were at the fire, we saved people. What’s the big deal?”

“They were fifteen minutes from having it under control,” Tony shoots back. “The building’s collapse is not consistent with the structural damage that was being reported.” He pauses and scrutinises their faces. “Conclusion – something you did caused the building to collapse, which means Damage Control has to take care of it, instead of the city authorities.” Harley and Peter exchange a look. They hadn’t thought of that.

“But Mr Stark,” says Peter, “those people wouldn’t have got out – some of them were unconscious.”

“Let me be clear,” Tony interjects, holding up a hand. “I’m not pissed that you saved them.”

“You’re not?”

“No, of course not! Eight people are alive because of you that wouldn’t have been otherwise. On that front, you did the right thing.”

“It was my fault,” Harley says reluctantly. “I broke through the ceiling to get to the other floor.” Tony opens his hands, a gesture which clearly says, _there it is_.

“You should have gone out and back in again,” he says. “Breaking a window wouldn’t have affected the structural integrity. Now it’s the Avengers’ fault that the building fell down, and you can bet your ass the media are going to be all over that.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles gloomily.

“You’re forgiven,” Tony says drily. “But next time just think: being a hero is more than acting in the moment. It’s thinking about the future.” They look blankly at him, so he continues. “This time, you got lucky. We may end up with a lawsuit, at worst. It happens. But another time? You might save someone, but what if the collateral damage is enough for the government to shut us down? In that scenario, you have to make the harder choice to sustain the Avengers for greater future threats, do you see?”

“That’s what the Accords were about, wasn’t it?” Peter asks, and Tony snorts.

“Ironically, perfect example.”

“We’re sorry, Tony,” says Harley earnestly. “Well, I am. Peter wasn’t sure about going in, it was mostly my idea.” He turns to Peter. “Is this why you hesitated?” Peter nods.

“Well, at least one of you has sense.” Tony checks his watch. “Anyway, I’m done chewing you out. For the most part… good job tonight.” He pauses at the door and addresses Peter. “You coming by this weekend?”

“Yeah, got to fix my suit up.” Tony nods approvingly.

“Make good choices,” he says, eyeing them both with a slight smirk. The door closes and they let out a shaky laugh.

“I think we got away with that,” says Harley, and Peter lifts his eyebrows.

“Just about.” He tosses his mask onto the desk and rubs his eyes. There are slight burns and bruises on his face that haven’t fully healed yet. “God, I’m tired.” Harley taps the reactor on his chest, dissolving the suit.

“Me too.” He stifles a yawn, pulls off his t-shirt and crawls into Peter’s bed. Peter decompresses his own suit and steps out of it, kicking it under the bed for now.

“Move over,” he mumbles, and feels Harley’s arm drape over his torso as he settles down, and feels Harley’s chest against his back. “Night,” he mumbles.

“Night, Pete.”

The next morning, the chaos of the fire all but forgotten, a new headline is pasted across the tabloids and the news websites.

“Harley?” Peter murmurs sleepily, as he scrolls through his phone waiting for his boyfriend to wake up. “Harley.”

“Hm?”

“Look at this.” Harley opens his eyes, runs a hand through his hair and takes Peter’s phone from him.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Harley sighs, flopping back onto the pillow. Peter stifles a laugh as he rereads the headline, accompanied by a picture of Peter hugging Harley after he emerged from the fire.

“Maybe it’ll distract people from the fact that you knocked down a building.”

“We can only hope,” Harley grumbles.

**_SPIDER-MAN AND IRONLAD: POWER COUPLE?_ **

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this, so I hope you've enjoyed reading it! If so, please leave a comment with your thoughts, or drop me an ask / message on Tumblr (@tea-for-one-please)!
> 
> Before anyone asks, I know the ending's a little ambiguous, but I am NOT planning on continuing this. I definitely plan on writing more of these characters, but probably not this particular storyline, and certainly not any time soon.


End file.
